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A collection of poetry that has recieved four stars or more at writing.com |
Profusely I sweat her feverishly As if temperatures were high; Making my mind delirious to think Her beauty in this world was meant for me. What could it be that makes me so heated For her I wait for medical reasoning Maybe even spiritual misleads As thoughts of her rush through my mind Like Hermes speeds through time Sending me messages that are not clear But seem to say that approaching is okay Although instinct tells me otherwise I could indeed swallow my ounce of pride And allow my feelings to be hurt this last time Before giving up all hope on finding love. Not to say I would not be susceptible But love is something that you trip into Fall head first, bloody and open So that the virus can seep into open sores And travel through bloodstreams into the center Your heart Yeah now it got you Like a bad disease Never at ease Keeping you up at night without Nyquil to please Kind of like that fly on the wall Constantly there to tease Awaken senses and leave them hanging in air Amused by your frustration and peaked by your motivation To end the teasing game and rest within consistency Yeah love is a sickness And I think she gave it to me To understand my words, you must first understand my mind. Balik737 |